


you're in love with her, idiot

by natasharomanhoffs



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Awkward Flirting, F/M, Fluff, Gryffindor Harry Potter, Harry Potter is Not the Boy-Who-Lived, Light Angst, Miscommunication, No Boy-Who-Lived (Harry Potter), Ravenclaw Hermione Granger, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-22
Updated: 2020-04-22
Packaged: 2021-03-02 01:54:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 15,365
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23787403
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/natasharomanhoffs/pseuds/natasharomanhoffs
Summary: Hermione Granger has managed to lead a quiet, unassuming life as a fifth-year Ravenclaw. Harry Potter is a well-adjusted and popular fifth-year Gryffindor. What happens when they eventually cross paths?Non-BWL au, Ravenclaw!Hermione, Happy!Harry, HHr, unbeta-ed and please review!
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Harry Potter
Comments: 85
Kudos: 586





	you're in love with her, idiot

Harry Potter was a dead man.

He turned a corner sharply, skidding down the corridor as he did so. He regained his balance quickly, before continuing his sprint, ignoring his book bag hitting his hip rhythmically.

He was so, _so_ dead.

He slid to a stop outside a great oak door, panting hard. He straightened himself up, fixed his tie and tried to get his hair into some semblance of order.

His attempts were futile at best.

Taking a deep breath, he knocked on the door with a steady hand. Hearing the faint "Enter", Harry reached for the handle, pushing the door as he entered.

"How nice of you to finally join us, Mr Potter," a sharp voice sounded from the front of the classroom. Harry gave the professor his best shit-eating grin even as he moved to the seat by Ron, trying to ignore the rest of the class and their stares.

"Sorry Professor, I got lost," he replied as he sank into his chair.

"That excuse may have worked in your first year, Mr Potter, but it sure isn't going to work in your fifth. 5 points from Gryffindor," the professor replied, giving him a glare. "Now, as I was saying, arrays are, in essence..."

Harry tried to pay attention, he really did, but with his best mate sat next to him, and his other best mate sat on the table next to them, he was finding it hard.

"You'd think she'd let you off, you being her son and all," Ron was muttering, fiddling with his quill. His parchment was noticeably blank.

Harry snorted.

"When has she _ever_ let me off?" he asked incredulously, glaring at the front of the classroom half-heartedly.

Lily Potter was a good teacher, her explanations informative yet succinct. Her teaching style was closer to a university lecturer than a hands on teacher, but it worked well for the standard Arithmancy class. She was also just as strict as McGonagall when it came to her classroom, especially now that their OWLs were upon them.

"You could always be on time, you know," Neville shrugged from the other desk, not pausing in his note taking.

"As if, Neville," Harry scoffed under his breath as he picked up his quill. "Only serious suggestions, por favor."

The rest of the double lesson passed in a blur (who the hell puts double Arithmancy first thing on a Monday morning?) and suddenly, it was time for lunch.

"I bloody well hope they have some good food this year, and none of that French crap," Ron grumbled as they packed up.

"That French crap was half decent and you know it," Neville replied with a roll of his eyes.

"I know no such thing!" Ron exclaimed, swinging his bag around wildly. Greengrass ducked around it with a sniff and pursed lips. "In fact, I'll go so far as to say-"

"Mr Potter," the familiar voice of his mum said from behind them. Watching his friends jump a foot in the air was worth the mini heart attack he had. "A word."

"Of course, Professor," he replied to her, before turning to his friends and saying, "Meet you in the Great Hall?"

Ron was already halfway to the door when he replied, "We'll save you a seat! Great class, Mrs P!" He ran out before Harry's mum could reply to the unprofessional address.

It was only after all the students had left did his mum close the door.

"Well?" she asked in lieu of a greeting, arms folded.

Harry caved.

He never could deny his mum anything.

"I may have been caught up in preparing something special for being back at school," he explained with a wince, "and I may have lost track of time." He brought his hand up reflexively to pat his hair down at the back, looking away from his mum's disapproving gaze.

"Honestly, Harry," she sighed, and Harry watched as she pinched the bridge of her nose. "Whatever am I meant to do with you?"

"Reinstate the points you took off?" Harry replied quickly, an impish grin on his face. His mother's glare got rid of it as quickly as it came. "I'm sorry, I really am. I promise to do better next time," he vowed, feeling more than sheepish.

He knew how much his mum hated it when he acted out. She never expected him to be the perfect student, but she had standards for him, standards which had only gotten higher since his instatement as Gryffindor Prefect.

"I know, Harry," she replied with a small smile. "Just... earn those points back, okay?"

"Of course," he replied immediately. That wasn't even a question.

"Now come on, or we'll miss lunch," she said with a roll of her eyes.

Harry decided that he enjoyed living, thank you very much, so he wisely decided not to reply to her not-so-quiet comments about incorrigible Potter men.

* * *

Hermione Granger was not happy.

No, she was _not_.

Of all the people in the _world_ she could've been partnered up with-

"Get a move on, Granger, and pass me the rat spleen," a snide voice said from her left.

Hermione drew in a deep breath, before passing the requested item to arsehole supreme: Zacharias Smith.

Who also happened to hate her guts.

Hermione continued to crush her beetles into a fine powder with her pestle and mortar. And if she happened to be taking her frustrations out on her ingredients? Well, that was nobody's business but hers.

The rest of Potions passed in a blur of Hermione biting her tongue, trying her best to focus on the potion, all the while Smith made disparaging comments. They were of a wide range, Hermione had to give him credit for that; from her attitude in class to how she did her hair, nothing was safe.

But the class also gave her ample opportunity to come up with a plan for the vengeance she wanted to go for. With cases like this, she usually went for subtlety. Small differences in her enemies' lives to make it that much more difficult.

She wasn't a reckless Gryffindor, after all.

Maybe she could replace his homework with illegible runes?

Or make his shoes a few millimeters tighter every day?

Maybe something to ostracise him... like a potion that could release terrible smells like body odour or old socks to everyone but him… _It's a good thing the Hufflepuff Common Room doesn't need a password_ , Hermione thought with none too little satisfaction. That last idea had some merit to it…

The bell for lunch came none too soon, and Hermione once again ignored Smith as he took one last parting shot at her.

"Well, I'm pleasantly surprised you managed to not fuck our potion up, Granger," he sneered. "Although your stirring could use work, so improve it before your next class."

_Fuck this_.

Her stirring was _perfect_ , thank you very much.

"Just because you have an inferiority complex doesn't mean we all do, Smith," she replied in a cutting tone, leaning forward to really pin him down to where he was standing with her eyes. He opened his mouth in retort, mouth twisting, before she cut him off. "I understand that you seem to think the world owes you something, because your daddy has done the bare minimum to have some money, but that's all that's going for that talentless sack of shit. That's nothing to applaud, Smith; that's _pitiful_ ," she sniped.

She was on a roll now, and she artfully ignored the gathering crowd around them. Smith's shocked expression gave her a thrill, even as he seemed to curl in on himself.

"You have a need to prove yourself in his eyes, just for him to turn around, pat you on your head and promote your brother." Her voice was vicious but she didn't care. "And just who do you think you are, making comments on my techniques? The only reason you're allowed to stay on this OWL programme is because your daddy dearest greased some palms, you dim-witted, blabbering moron. Talk like that to me again, and we'll see what else you have to say with your tongue in a pickle jar," she finished off, practically towering over the boy. His eyes were wide, his mouth had fallen open.

Hermione had had enough.

She had kept her mouth shut, had kept her head down, not wanting to rock the boat. She went to her classes, studied with her dorm mates, and watched the rest of the castle.

And what had it gained her?

He had _some_ nerve, thinking he could talk to her like that.

They _all_ had some nerve.

It took Hermione another second to realise that she had lost control of her magic. She quickly pulled it into her again, trying to ignore the sighs of relief from her classmates. They didn't seem to be aware of how on edge they had been.

Smith looked like his house elf had just gotten up and done a jiggy on his Potions worktop.

A low whistle interrupted the quiet in the room.

"The eagle has claws!" Abbott said from where she stood, a grin on her face.

That broke the tension, and loud chatter filled the small circle of students.

Hermione grabbed her bag and stormed out.

No one stopped her.

Unfortunately for her, it was lunch time, so everyone was out in the corridors, making their way to the Great Hall.

Fortunately for her, something about her gave off "Don't fuck with me" vibes, so they gave her a wide berth.

It was going completely fine until she was rounding a corner on the second floor.

"-a Flitterbloom in the bathroom-"

Hermione walked straight into a solid chest.

She kept her balance, but sent a withering look to the offending person.

"Bloody hell," Potter exclaimed, stumbling. "You on a warpath or something, Granger? Who's the poor fella?"

"Language, Potter," Hermione replied automatically. "And watch where you're going."

"I could say the same to you," he replied with a raised brow, a small smile on his lips. He leaned in closer, too close for comfort.

Hermione could smell his aftershave.

He had pretty lips.

"You okay there, Granger?" he asked, a concerned frown on his face.

Hermione's eyes snapped up to his, praying that her cheeks weren't as red as they felt.

"I'm fine," she replied curtly, her voice stiff. It was only then she realised another figure hovering behind Potter. "Oh, Professor Potter!" she exclaimed, and she was definitely red now. "I- I didn't see you there. How was your summer?"

Professor Potter was one of her favourite Professors, and a personal hero to Hermione.

And she was currently smirking at Hermione with an all-knowing look on her face.

She didn't think it was possible, but Hermione got redder.

"It was well, Hermione, thank you. Are you not heading to lunch?" she asked, a polite frown on her face.

"Ah, no, I wanted to... to check something in the library," Hermione replied, anything but smooth.

She really wasn't a good liar.

"We won't keep you any longer then, as it seems like you're in a hurry," she said pointedly, grabbing Potter by his elbow. "Come now, Mr Potter."

Potter seemed to take a second to snap out of his scrutiny of her.

"Ah, yes, of course Mu- Professor," he replied, covering his mistake smoothly. "See you around, Granger."

Hermione gave them only a short wave before she walked away.

"-very smooth-" was all she heard before they turned the corner that she had come from.

She ignored that interaction for the rest of the week.

Well, she tried to.

But Potter had a way of popping up in her head.

_He has really filled out his uniform since last year, hasn't he?_

Hermione groaned as she let her head fall to the library desk, wondering when her life had become a damn soap opera.

Her little loss of control at the end of Potions three days ago was _still_ being talked about.

It _really_ wasn't a big deal.

"Rumour has it that she made Smith cry in front of Slughorn," a whisper reached her.

She gripped her quill so hard it snapped.

She ignored the subsequent squeak and rustling.

A few seconds later, two fourth years were running out of the Library from where they were hiding two bookshelves away.

She gave up on studying during her free period, and decided to head straight to her first advanced DADA class of the year, even if she was ten minutes early. She took her sweet time packing up though, allowing herself the small concession knowing that she had time.

She didn't expect to be held up by _Peeves_.

It didn't take long for her to get rid of him (they had a longstanding professional relationship), so she wasn't _technically_ late, but she was the last one in, and the door shut firmly behind her just as she slipped in.

She caught Potter's intense gaze from where he had turned around. She held it for a few seconds, before breaking eye contact, moving to the empty seat next to Sue as she muttered an apology to Snape.

She steadfastly kept her eyes on the front of the classroom, not allowing them to wander to the back of Potter's head.

* * *

"-a Flitterbloom in the bathroom-"

Harry was regaling his last prank to his mum when a small missile hit him in the chest, causing him to fall back.

"Bloody hell," he muttered, rubbing his chest. He easily identified the mane of brown curls in front of him. "You on a warpath or something, Granger? Who's the poor fella?"

"Language, Potter," she replied quickly, before saying, "And watch where you're going."

Harry raised an eyebrow.

Didn't she bump into him?

"I could say the same to you," he said with a little snort, unable to hide his smile. Then he really looked.

Granger looked... frazzled.

Her curls were frizzing up more than usual, and she didn't seem to be aware, but there were sparks at her fingertips. Her eyes seemed to be glowing a little from within, and her face was red.

And there was this _tension_ in the air, this static. Harry usually felt it before duelling, when his magic would build in the air around him, getting him ready to be fighting fit.

It put Harry on edge.

Granger's magic felt like it was on a tightly controlled leash, and what little Harry could feel of it, it seemed... excited.

"You okay there, Granger?" he asked, tilting his head.

"I'm fine," she snapped, quite rudely if Harry was being honest. She seemed to blush more. "Oh, Professor Potter!" she squeaked. "I- I didn't see you there. How was your summer?"

Harry's mum replied, but he ignored it for observing Granger.

Granger was _pretty_.

Harry didn't know where this revelation came from, but Granger was _pretty_.

Her dark brows (which were usually pulled in a frown of concentration or annoyance) framed her lash-rimmed eyes very nicely. Her nose wasn't off-centre, and her lips were, surprisingly, pouty and full when they weren't being nibbled on by her.

_Very_ pretty.

Most notably, however, was her magic. It appeared to be rolling off her in waves, this feeling of barely controlled _power_. It was quite intoxicating.

Harry breathed deeply, enjoying Granger's presence.

She smelled of parchment and the smell after it had rained.

He felt his mum's familiar hand on his elbow. "Come now, Mr Potter."

"Ah, yes, of course Mu- Professor," he replied quickly, hoping Granger hadn't caught his staring. "See you around, Granger."

They walked away after that, and his mum didn't wait long to harass him.

"That was very smooth, Harry," she teased.

Harry tried to will the blush on his cheeks away. Judging by his mum's growing smirk, he had failed miserably.

"Whatever," he muttered, kicking the floor almost sullenly.

His mum, thankfully, dropped it, and Harry's thoughts went back to the _intriguing_ witch. Harry knew who she was, of course. They shared some classes since their first year together, and he had to admit, she was very clever. He knew that she ranked top place of their year group consistently, and had seen her frankly impressive wandwork. He also knew that she preferred to be alone; the only two people he'd seen her hang out with were Sue Li and Lisa Turpin, fellow Ravenclaws.

His mind wandered back to her frayed state, and he wondered what could have affected the usually stoic witch so much.

He received his answer not even five minutes later.

"Mate, did you hear?" Ron said excitedly in lieu of a greeting, waving Harry down to where they were sitting.

"What?" Harry replied, sitting down and loading food on his plate.

"Granger ripped Smith a new arsehole in Potions today!" the redhead replied around a full mouth, now waving his still half full fork around.

Harry wrinkled his nose.

Then he comprehended the words.

"Wait, what?" he asked, frowning.

"It was apparently brutal," Neville chipped in. "Hannah and Susan both told me that Smith had been foul all class, constantly on Granger's case-"

"That's what my sister told me too," Parvati chimed in.

"-and she finally snapped at the end of the lesson," Neville continued. "Very brutal indeed."

"She must've said some really harsh shit," Ron said, agreeing eagerly. "I saw Smith just outside, and the poor bloke was as white as a sheet!"

"She did," Parvati added, just as eagerly. "She managed to insult Smith, his dad, his brother, his grades, and threatened him to boot too!"

Harry watched the ping pong discussion with avid interest, his lunch momentarily forgotten.

That explained a lot.

"I heard that she started to talk about his inferiority complex, and his dad choosing his brother over him," Neville added after swallowing some potatoes.

"She must have some balls on her," Ron said, "considering she did it in the middle of the classroom in front of half the year group."

"I'm just glad someone took that cretin down a notch or two," Lavender sniffed from the other side of Parvati. "He really is an uncouth boy, isn't he?"

Parvati snorted delicately in reply. "That's putting it very lightly Lav. Besides, I'm more glad that it was Granger who did it. According to Pads, this had been a long time coming." At everyone's focus on her, Parvati preened a little before continuing. "Well, you guys remember how she was in first year, right?"

"Insufferable," Ron muttered.

"Overexcited," Neville nodded.

"Unbearable," Lavender declared.

"Yes, well you can imagine that it didn't do her any favours in Ravenclaw," Parvati continued, shooting a glare at the interrupters.

"What do you mean?" Ron asked, not noticing Parvati's growing annoyance. "Shouldn't those swots have liked her? She fits that lot perfectly."

Harry silently had to agree.

"Use your brain, Ron," Lavender cut in now, rolling her eyes. "If her know-it-all attitude annoyed you, imagine how much it would've annoyed those who _pride_ themselves on intelligence. Must be quite insulting to have someone act as if they know better than you."

That was... quite insightful actually, Harry thought with a frown.

"Anyway," Parvati said pointedly. "She wasn't treated too well, so even now she's barely friends with Li and Turpin, and the rest just ignore her. But that's not all," she continued, her eyes gleaming, wanting to drag out the attention. "Anyone who crosses her, ends up... unhappy."

There was a beat of silence.

"What the fuck does that mean?" Ron complained loudly, frowning at the dark haired girl.

"It means, Ron," Lavender continued, "that the rest of her house _learned_ to _avoid_ her. Remember Edgecombe? That was _her_!"

Harry blinked.

"Wait, wait," he said, leaning forward with a confused frown on his face. "That was her?" he asked, incredulous. At Parvati and Lavender's excited nods, his mouth fell open. "It took the Healers three months to get that word off her forehead!" he exclaimed.

"And she still has the scars," Parvati said with a satisfied smirk.

Harry's mouth fell open again.

That was...

Harry didn't know what that was.

Why was he hard at that?

The thought of Granger's face all smug and self-satisfied, wielding her wand expertly, weaving it through the air…

He coughed into his hand.

"Why though?" Neville asked. When everyone looked at him, he said, "Well, she must've had a reason!"

"Ginny did mention that Edgecombe used to bully Luna," Ron pondered with a confused frown. "But she hasn't mentioned anything for a while now..."

"Yes! I heard that Granger found out and lost her temper!" Lavender was the excited one now.

"That would explain why she had 'Bully' tattooed on her forehead," Neville nodded, before spearing another potato.

She did it for a noble cause?

Harry's pants got noticeably tighter.

* * *

After that, it was hard to ignore Granger.

She was... fascinating.

At first, Harry just assumed she was exactly like his impression of her for the past four years: studious, quiet, and stand-offish. And a little bit scary with how she always got the spells first try in class.

But there was _more_.

She was brilliant.

Her eyes were sharp, constantly watching the others in her class. Her tongue was sharper, her wit shining through with each word.

And her _magic_.

Harry had kept a close eye on her magic for the next few days, and found that she was practically _brimming_ with excess magic. She kept a tight leash on it mostly, but Harry got snippets sometimes, just sometimes, when she was annoyed, or zoned out.

It was kind of maddening.

Once he started to look for it, he couldn't _not_ notice it.

He would know if she walked through the door without even looking.

When she walked into DADA later that week, his magic was already looking for hers.

Holding eye contact under Granger's strong gaze was... intense.

"Have a seat, Granger," Snape said softly, eyes warning her silently.

"Yes, sorry, sir," she said quietly before sitting next to Li.

Harry turned back around.

"This year, we will begin to look into the _practical_ application of the knowledge we have gone over the last two years," Snape began, pacing the front of the classroom sedately. "To judge where you all stand, we shall begin with a small duelling competition-" Excited whispers broke out, and Harry flashed a grin at Ron. "-That will run over the next two hours." He said the last part a bit louder, silencing the class. "Get up."

A loud scrape and more excited chatter filled the class. Snape swiftly banished the tables and chairs to the side of the room, before tapping his wand on the blackboard. A list of paired names came up.

"You shall duel in groups of three pairs in front of the whole class. Disarm and stun only, and standard rules apply. No physical contact, no dark or illegal magic, and no enduring damage that can't be patched up by Madame Pomfrey," Snape lectured, pacing the gap in the middle of the classroom. With quick hands, he conjured up a raised platform, big enough to hold six people duelling. "First up: Bones and Zabini, Longbottom and Finch-Fletchley, and Goldstein and Finnegan." The six students hurried to the stage in the middle as the rest of the class huddled around it. Snape began to pace around it as he watched them take position. Harry watched as all three pairs paced and bowed as expected, before snapping to attention.

"Begin."

There was suddenly a flurry of flashes, overlapping voices, and Harry decided then and there that this was definitely one of the more entertaining DADA classes.

All in all, Neville, Bones and Anthony won their respective duels, and moved onto the next round. Harry was surprised that Zabini lost, and it was a close call to be fair. But Bones had an unexpected ferocity to her that didn't quite match the sweet demeanour she usually had.

"Zabini, more movement, more fluidity. Finch-Fletchley, you need to be more adaptable; when Longbottom became defensive, you failed to take advantage of his fatigue. Finnegan, pure power alone won't save you in duelling; you also need finesse and control. Bones, more variety in your spell-casting would make you more unpredictable. Longbottom, improve on your endurance and focus; you slipped up on both accounts a few times. Goldstein, take a page out of Finnegan's book and up your power; stop holding back."

Harry listened to the advice Snape was spieling out, his eyebrows raising higher and higher on his forehead with each comment. He was very... astute.

Apparently, Snape had a passion and talent for duelling.

Who would've guessed?

Harry then remembered his mum telling him how good Snape actually was at duelling, and how every time they met up for a friendly one, Snape had beat his mum more often than not.

And Harry's mum was _scary_.

Out of the next three pairs, Harry, Nott and Li went through. Ron complained about Nott the whole way back to the sidelines, and Harry clapped him on the back for moral support. Harry had knocked Padma out, and Macmillan was knocked out by Li.

"Nott, keep an eye on your feet and stay dynamic, not static. Li, you could've ended the duel a lot sooner if you had noticed that Macmillan favoured his right side. Potter, stop overpowering your spells; you'll tire yourself out too quickly. Weasley, work on your aim, and study more spells. You became too predictable. Patil, you focussed too much on attacking, and forgot to defend yourself. Macmillan, as I have mentioned to you before, _stop favouring your right side_. Also, learn to read your opponent better."

Harry listened to his lecture with furrowed brows, nodding his head at his advice.

That made sense.

Too bad Snape didn't know that Harry actually had a rather impressive magical core and could've duelled for a lot longer.

Next was Granger and Davis, and Fay and Malfoy.

Harry kept his eyes focused on Granger. He watched as she gave a crisp bow, before falling into a standard position, wand straight out in front of her, her body positioned sideways. She had taken her robes off, and was just in her shirt, jumper and skirt.

"Begin," Snape said for the third time.

Davis was quick, but Granger was quicker. She sent a quick body-bind spell, which Davis barely blocked. They fell into a rhythm of swapping spells back and forth, incantations loud and clear, getting quicker and quicker with each exchange.

Granger looked like she was just playing with Davis.

Davis was slower, but her shields were strong. She was mainly on the defensive, but Granger seemed to enjoy teasing her into being more attack-minded.

It only took a small knick to her shoulder to snap her into attention.

In quick succession, she sent a _silent_ knockback jinx, which Davis blocked, transfigured the floor beneath her into ice, before stunning her just as she lost focus on her shield.

It was done in less than five seconds.

And did Harry mention that she had done it bloody _silently_!?

"Davis: find a better balance between attack and defence; if you had paid attention during the duel, you would've noticed that Granger wasn't tiring out as you had expected her to. Malfoy: stop underestimating your opponents; overconfidence has killed many a powerful wizard," Snape recited in the same monotone he always had. "Dunbar, play to your strengths; if hexes aren't your strong suit, use Charms, or Transfiguration. Be _creative_ ," he emphasised the last point. Then he turned to Granger with a raised eyebrow. "I wasn't aware that we had covered non-verbal spells, Granger."

She had the decency to blush, but she stared at him resolutely.

"I may have read ahead, sir," she explained in an even tone, unapologetic.

Snape looked at her coolly for another few seconds before saying, "It wasn't a terrible first attempt."

Harry almost fainted on the spot.

Had Snape just... _complimented_ a student? No matter how backhanded, a compliment from Snape was like... Trelawney talking sense. Or Dumbledore in plain robes! It just wasn't done.

"And next time," Snape continued above the small chatter, "if you can end a duel, end it. It's bad form to play with your opponent." His gaze was piercing and Granger had the decency to duck her head down in chastisement. "Next round," Snape declared, and waved his wand to the board again. "Each pair will go up one by one. First up: Longbottom and Li."

Harry watched the duel with sharp eyes, watching as Neville and Li exchanged spells. Neville was clearly tiring out, and Li, who had apparently been listening to Snape, pushed ahead and ended the duel swiftly after that. He watched as Li handed back Neville's wand to him with a bright smile, who took it back with a nervous one.

"Potter and Bones," Snape said.

Harry climbed the platform, nodding thanks to Ron's support.

He bowed respectfully, before falling into his duelling position. At Snape's indication, Harry sent off his first spell, Rictumsempra, and quickly followed up with a shield. Luckily he did, because a bright purple spell hit it almost a split second later. He dodged Bones' next spell, before sending his own after dropping his shield. Harry was light on his feet, nimble too. He dodged and weaved, ducking spell after spell even as he sent his own as he moved.

He watched Bones carefully, and noted that she used the knockback jinx a lot. A good spell to use, but it was also a wordy spell. Harry delayed his next spell by a split second, and waited for Bones instead. It was risky, because she could've easily sent a stunning spell his way (short, snappy, effective), but something in Harry's gut told him that he was right.

And he was.

As she began the incantation, distracted and invested in her spell, Harry sent his spell out immediately. A quick stunning spell.

"Stupefy!" He yelled, his wand snapping in the correct movement. The spell hit Bones square in the chest, sending her sprawling. Harry summoned her wand, before hurrying over to her and enervating her. He helped her up with an easy smile, which she returned just as easily.

"Good match," she said, grinning and taking her wand.

"You too," he replied.

He hopped off the stage lithely. He felt like he had just stepped off a rollercoaster, all heightened senses on edge. His magic was cloaked around him in an excited state, and he couldn't help but notice Granger's magic reacting to it.

She had taken her jumper off during his duel, and was now rolling her sleeves up to her elbows. Her fingers were deft and quick, and a _pleasure_ to watch.

And her magic was prickling against his skin, raising the hair on his arms.

Harry dry swallowed.

* * *

Hermione kept her eyes trained on Potter's form as he twisted around on the stage, light on his feet. He was quite the impressive dueller; quick, powerful, smart.

And he was _distracting_ her.

His dark hair looked windswept, even though they were indoors. His robes flowing around him, and honestly, how do they not hinder him? There was a small, crooked smile on his face, and he seemed to be enjoying the duelling. His eyes were captivating, almost iridescent with the power _gleaming_ from him.

Oh, Potter was _powerful_.

And it was _very_ distracting.

After the duel (Potter had won, of course), Hermione busied herself with her sleeves to avoid looking at him. She was too bad of a liar to risk that kind of exposure.

"Granger and Goldstein." Snape's voice pulled her out of her reverie, and she snapped to attention. She climbed the platform quickly, pacing and bowing as required of her.

She shot her housemate a quick smirk, watching as he narrowed his eyes at her.

She liked Anthony.

Anthony was funny.

Their duel was fun. Hermione watched Anthony's tall form enunciate each syllable perfectly, his posture textbook-perfect. But it was unsuited for Anthony's style, and in fact, hindered him. His spells just weren't packing the punch they should've.

So Hermione pushed his buttons, to force him to stop overthinking and just _throw_ himself into the duel.

Snape's earlier advice didn't even cross her mind.

Her mind flashed to their class on Boggarts.

She conjured up a snake, smirking with satisfaction as Anthony stumbled.

Hermione pressed on, sending spell after spell, forcing Anthony to either stay indefinitely on the defensive (as Hermione wasn't tiring out any time soon), or fight back.

He decided with the latter.

Once he vanished the snake, and was fully committed to the duel, Hermione felt more at ease. She really didn't like duelling someone who was only half invested in the fight. It made her feel like she was taking advantage.

After that, their spellfire was quicker, stronger, flashier.

It ended with Anthony tied up in ropes, hanging by his ankle, his wand falling out of his pocket. She quickly summoned it.

Hermione set him straight before handing his wand back.

"Took you long enough to fight back properly," Hermione told him with a roll of his eyes. She untied him.

"I was being a perfect gentleman, I'll have you know," he said with false snobbery, his nose upturned. But Hermione could see the mirth in his eyes as his lips curled upwards. She accepted his offer to help her down, snorting at his theatrics.

"The perfect gentleman, or the perfect dunce?" she asked, her tone light and mocking as she raised her eyebrows.

"Ouch," he winced, pressing a hand to his chest. "You wound me, darling."

Hermione could feel a dark gaze on her, but she ignored it as she swatted at Anthony's arm with a roll of her eyes.

"Your big head needs me to keep it in check," Hermione scoffed. The foreign, yet familiar magic around them grew thicker in the air, pressing in on her from all directions. Hermione shivered, her arm hair raising. A warmth pooled low in her abdomen.

The next pair, Nott and Dunbar, got up onto the platform. The class quieted down and turned to watch them. Hermione chanced a look behind her, wanting to catch a glimpse of Potter.

She wasn't expecting him to be watching her, rather than the duel that had just started in front of them.

They held each other's gaze for a long minute. Hermione felt as if she was being pinned down by his hooded, dark green eyes. Apparently, he didn't care that he was caught in the act. Hermione kept looking at him, not wanting to break first. It was like a game of chicken, and she wasn't about to lose.

Hermione Granger didn't lose.

Eventually, he looked away as Nott was thrown across the platform by Dunbar. Hermione also turned to watch, just as Dunbar caught Nott's wand.

"The next round will have 2 pairs," Snape lectured, waving his wand again. The writing wiped itself off, and new writing appeared. "First up, Dunbar and Potter."

Hermione resolutely kept her head facing forward.

She tried to ignore Potter's cologne as he brushed past her.

His lingering fingers left a trail of fire down her arm.

Their duel was entertaining. Both Potter and Dunbar were clearly talented, both clearly putting a lot of effort into the duel.

In the end, there could only be one winner, and that was Potter.

He quickly put the fire on his sleeve out before enervating Dunbar, helping her up as she lost some of her grogginess. Being stunned was no fun at all.

Hermione climbed back on the stage, facing one of her only friends.

"You're going down, Granger," Sue smirked, her rosy cheeks flushed from her earlier duels. Hermione knew she couldn't underestimate her. The big girl was surprisingly nimble and light on her feet.

They both eased their way into the duel, but before long, they were tossing spells back and forth comfortably. Hermione used Transfiguration more, which meant her spells were usually long, or complicated; this allowed Sue to get a few shots in. Sue was better at Charms, so Hermione took advantage of that and used "finite" every other spell. Sue's spells packed a punch, especially in tandem with other charms, as they were simpler, but it also meant they were easy to block or dispel. Hermione's spells were more cumbersome, but were more permanent, and had more of an impact. Hermione's were quality over quantity.

Eventually, she beat Sue; she disarmed her after distracting her with a complex conjuration of birds, which distracted Sue enough for her to get the shot in.

Hermione wiped the sweat off her brow with the back of her hand.

"Granger, Potter, you're the final two," Snape said succinctly as Sue limped off the stage. She healed the large cut on her leg almost absent-mindedly. "The winner will gain fifty points for their House. Potter, if you will." He nodded at the stage, and Potter climbed it quickly. Hermione tried not to watch as Potter finally got rid of his damn cloak. She almost choked on air as he removed his jumper too.

He... he really had filled out, she thought almost breathlessly.

The duel passed in a blur.

Hermione was so focused on _keeping up_ with Potter that she barely had time to register the rest of the class taking a few steps back as it got more and more heated. Both Hermione and Potter kept up with each other, blow for blow. She watched as he wiped his brow with his free hand, even as his wand shot up in a complicated spiral to send her a quick Ventus. She batted it away with a spell of her own, letting it dissipate around her, ignoring the effect on her hair.

With each spell, the stakes rose higher and higher, each shot getting that bit harsher. Hermione barely registered the stinging pain in her thigh, or the dull pain in her hip from being thrown onto the ground at one point.

Eventually, Hermione found her in.

Potter teetered on a twisted ankle, pouring his all into a single sucker punch that was intended to take her out.

For a very long second, Hermione kept her eyes locked onto his stormy visage, watching as his brows contorted and his mouth curled up into a triumphant look.

_Gotcha_.

Hermione jumped out of the way, ignoring the heavy landing on her knees as she tucked and rolled, already bringing her wand arm up even as the table behind where she had just been standing blew into smithereens.

And she sent a quick _Stupefy_.

Potter's form crumpled in on itself as he was thrown back several feet.

Hermione stood there, panting as blood trickled down her forehead and her lip.

A low whistle interrupted her state of shock.

Slowly, a light applause broke out, bringing her attention to her surroundings.

There was a large area circling her and Potter where everything was absolutely _wrecked_. Outside of the area, everything was pristine, and the rest of the class stood there with wide eyes and slack jaws.

Hermione gave a mocking bow, before limping over to Potter's still lying form.

"Ennervate," she murmured softly, her wand movements now serene.

As Potter came to, Hermione set about repairing the minor and inconsequential injuries widely adorning them both.

_He looks kind of cute, all confused like that_ , Hermione's mind wandered as she went through the simple routines.

She ruthlessly stamped down the thought.

Potter was finally waking up, his green eyes clouded beneath his thick lashes as they tried to focus on her.

"Granger?"

* * *

Harry felt like he'd been hit by a bludger.

Or twenty.

It was not a pleasant feeling.

He tried blinking away his grogginess, but all it did was make the mirage of Granger clearer.

Unless...

"Granger?" he asked, ignoring the pain the frown caused him.

"Stay still, Potter; I need to stop your bleeding before we get you moving," the Ravenclaw replied, her tone brisk and no-nonsense.

She'd make a pretty good librarian, Harry thought in a daze.

Or a teacher.

"I'm pretty comfortable here, why do we need to move?" he replied instead, a smirk pulling at his lips.

The light blush appearing on her face made his heart snag on a beat.

"Now is not the time for inappropriate flirting, Potter," she insisted instead, patching him up with deft wrist flicks.

"So are you saying there will be time later?" Harry replied immediately, raising an eyebrow even as his smirk grew into a full blown grin.

Her blush deepened.

"You're all ready to see Madam Pomfrey now," was all she replied with, in the same brusque tone she always had. She sat back up on her haunches, before standing up completely.

"Well, I can hardly accompany myself can I? And you wouldn't leave poor, defenceless me to the dangers of the unknown, would you?" Harry stood up as he said this, straightening his tie and his robes as he kept a close eye on Granger's reactions.

She rolled her eyes at him dramatically, but Harry could see the smile tugging on the corner of her lips.

"Fine, Potter," was what she finally replied with, and nothing could get rid of the stupid grin on his face.

Not even the knowledge that he got his arse handed to him by a girl.

Granger quickly summoned both of their bags, telling Snape where they were going before leaving at a brisk pace from the classroom, not even looking back to see if Harry was following. With his much longer legs, it didn't take long for Harry to catch up with the demure girl, who seemed irritated at the ease of his pace.

Harry reached over and tugged on an errant curl.

Granger immediately jerked her head away.

"What are you doing?" she asked harshly, rounding on him in the middle of the corridor.

Harry put his hands up as a show of surrender. "That Ventus did a real number on your hair, I was just detangling a piece," he explained. He watched in fascination as a look of embarrassed surprise flit across her face, almost too quick for him to notice.

"Well... don't," she said succinctly, jutting her chin out.

"Whatever you say, love," Harry replied with a shrug, turning to continue walking. He had taken a few steps before realising that Granger hadn't, so he turned around. "What is it now?" he asked her frozen form with a raised eyebrow.

"I just didn't realise that we were on a nickname basis, Potter," she responded with her own raised eyebrow, but she was nibbling on her _very_ full lower lip.

Harry got distracted for a second, his eyes falling to those perfectly plump, pink lips.

He coughed into his hand as the other came up to rub the back of his head.

"I won't do it again," he promised earnestly.

There was a beat of silence, before-

"I don't mind," she said simply, and she even seemed surprised with herself.

Harry grinned again.

They escorted each other to the infirmary, both sharing a look over Pomfrey's shoulder at her worried frets as she bustled about the room.

Hermione giggled into her hand at Potter's mime of twisting his finger around his forehead as a universal, _Muggle_ symbol of "She's crazy".

Hermione idly wondered where he learned it from.

Harry grinned widely after making _the_ Hermione Granger giggle.

Despite having lost fifty points, bruised, bloodied and knocked out by a girl, _and_ been subjected to one of Pomfrey's infamous lectures on the lack of safety at Hogwarts, Harry was having a fantastic day.

* * *

Hermione looked up from her stack of notes as a bag was placed down next to her in the library. She met Potter's green eyes with a raised eyebrow.

"Good evening," she said politely, going back to her essay.

"Evening to you too," Potter replied with a quick smile, taking out his parchment and books from his bag. And to Hermione's great surprise, he actually began to study.

Over fifteen minutes passed before one of them broke the silence.

"So, to what do I owe this pleasure?" Hermioned asked as she finished her sentence off with a precise dot, placing it on the table next to her parchment. She turned her upper body to face the boy in question, leaning forward to rest her chin on her hand.

Potter looked up from his textbook with rather wide eyes.

He looked _cute_ , damn it.

He responded with a shrug. "Just needed to study, and I saw an empty seat next to you. Besides, I wanted to ask you about your non-verbal casting in the duel."

Ah, the duel.

It had occurred last week, and their classmates were still gossiping about it.

Hermione had done a good job of avoiding the limelight, mostly by holing up in the library behind strategically placed stacks of textbooks. She had done an even better job of avoiding Potter's dark eyes and affectionate nicknames.

Until now.

She internally sighed, but figured, why not?

* * *

"Well that doesn't make sense!" Harry exclaimed, running his hand through his hair quickly. "If you put erswatz there-"

"- You would be destabilising the whole array!" Granger replied just as heatedly, jabbing her quill on her parchment. "Look." She scribbled out a few lines of runes, Harry leaning over her shoulder to watch her quick hand across the paper.

"Oh... OH!" He exclaimed it a bit loudly by her ear if her slight jump was anything to go by. He placed a firm hand on her shoulder to relax her. "Sorry, love. But I think I get it now-"

Before he could continue his explanation, a loud throat clearing interrupted him from the right.

"I'd like to remind you that this is a _library_." Cho, the Ravenclaw sixth year prefect, was standing there with folded arms and a raised eyebrow.

At some point, Harry had a crush on her, but that had dissipated somewhat.

"If you want to have a conversation or discussion, I'd suggest booking a studio or finding an empty classroom," she continued, clearly irritated.

"Sorry, Chang, won't happen again," came Granger's voice from his left, strained even to Harry's untrained ears.

Immediately, Cho stiffened up. A scowl pulled on her pretty face, before it cleared up. "Make sure it doesn't." She flounced off after that, long hair swinging.

That's right, she's best friends with Edgecombe, Harry thought.

He hadn't realised how close he was to Granger until he was aware of her hair tickling his chin. He startled, his head still hanging above her shoulder, looking down to see the tightness of her brows and her pursed lips. Without thinking, he slowly squeezed the hand on her shoulder, rubbing his fingers in slightly to get rid of the tight knot he could feel.

"Don't worry about it, love, we can just continue this conversation elsewhere." Harry knew how much the library had meant to Granger, so it must have hurt her pride to be reprimanded like that.

It took her a few seconds, but she seemed to wake from her thoughts and shrug his hand off her shoulder.

He missed the warmth already.

"No worries, Potter," she said in a clipped voice, packing her stuff up in short, mechanical movements. "I've already taken enough of your time."

And she was right. It was already dinner time, and they'd been sitting at the library for at least three hours.

Harry huffed out a laugh as she swung her bag on her shoulder. He quickly packed up his own things, in a decidedly less organised way than Granger. "There is plenty more time in the day, Granger. Let me escort you to dinner," he requested, standing. He leaned on the back of the chair, his height towering over her more slight one.

Granger looked up at him with narrowed eyes, staring for what seemed like an eternity.

"Sure," she finally said, her voice even.

Harry grinned at her.

On their way to dinner, he just couldn't keep quiet.

"So you're saying that runic arrays are sensitive to more grounded runes?" he asked curiously, reaching forward to grab her bag from her as they left the library. She hesitated for a moment, before handing it over to him.

Harry refused to show her that he nearly buckled under the weight.

His question sparked off another lively debate, and by the time they had reached the bottom of the staircase, Granger was looking a lot more alive.

Harry looked at her with a stupid grin on his face as she lectured him about the beauty of Arithmancy, and how it _just made sense_. She didn't seem to be aware that she had less control over her magic. It appeared to be creating a radiant glow from within, her eyes bright and warm as her curls seemed to fluff up around her.

She looked gorgeous.

Harry dropped her off to the Ravenclaw table with a small wave and small smile, before jogging across the Hall to sit with his friends.

He didn't notice the curious look from them, too distracted by the shepherds pie in front of him.

* * *

"Do you have to do that?" Hermione asked with a roll of her eyes, leaning back to allow Potter a closer look at her notes.

"Yep," he responded simply, popping the P. He frowned before pointing at her essay. "Shouldn't this say that the Draught of Living Death is highly volatile because of the bat spleen, not the rat tail?"

Hermione frowned as she leaned forward again, eyes roving until she found what he was looking for.

"Why would the bat spleen make it volatile? Rat tail is a lot more sensitive," she asked him, turning to meet his eyes.

She hadn't realised how close they sat until she did, and suddenly, his cologne was filling her nose, his face less than fifteen centimetres away from hers.

He didn't seem to notice as he met her eyes, the slightly confused frown making his surprisingly pink lips pout a little. "Because of the dandelion root, no?"

It took Hermione a few seconds to register what he said, and she could've smacked herself.

"Oh, you're right," she moaned, turning back to her parchment with renewed fervour.

Potter refused to lean back for the rest of their study session.

* * *

Harry watched as Granger cut her ingredients deftly, her hands fast and skilled.

"Oi, mate." Ron's irritated voice broke him out of his reverie and he turned back to their own potion. "Stop fantasizing about Granger and strip the bay leaves."

"I wasn't fantasizing about her," Harry replied immediately, but he moved to bring the bay leaves to his side of the station as he readjusted his slack grip on his knife.

"Uh-uh, sure," Ron replied, clearly disbelieving. "And I want to see McGonagall in her tight-y whities."

Harry just replied with a snort, watching with amusement as Slughorn berated him for his inappropriate comments about a member of staff.

His eyes managed to find Hermione's figure more than once.

* * *

"Move it, Granger," Potter said with a roll of his eyes, but his tone was affectionate as he side stepped her.

She matched his step.

She looked up at him.

"What's this I hear of you joining the Ancient Runes Club? You don't even take the subject?" she responded instead, making sure to hold his gaze.

He just shrugged back at her, the little shit-

"After our discussion I realised it sounded interesting. And it may be too late to take the OWL in it, but nothing in the rules says that I can't join," he replied, rather smugly in fact.

Hermione wanted to wipe his smirk off.

But she was rather endeared that he had gone to such efforts. She nodded in understanding, before an impish grin broke out on her face.

"Is that why all the Beginner's Introduction to Ancient Runes have been removed from the library?"

He shrugged again, shameless as he grinned back at her, leaning forward.

"Are you worried I'm going to catch up to your throne, princess?" he asked with a hand in his pocket, the other hand reaching forward to tug on a curl.

Hermione felt her face flush at the casual touch, but raised her chin with a sharp smile on her face. "If you think that I'm worried about the likes of _you_ then you have another thing coming."

Potter let out a loud guffaw, throwing his head back, but he leaned in even further until there were a scant few centimetres between them. "Oh, love, I have really rattled your cage, huh?"

Hermione felt as though her heart was trying to jump out of her chest. He was close enough that she could see the gold flecks in his eyes from where the sun was hitting them. She could feel his magic pulsing around her, making the hairs on her arms raise. He had small, pale freckles on his nose, a remnant from his mother, his brows thick and dark.

A loud cough brought them out of their little staring contest, and Hermione immediately pulled back, pulling her cloak around her tighter. She hooked an arm around Sue, who had been watching with an amused expression.

"See you around, Potter," she said in a brisk voice, not waiting for his reply as she pulled her way-too-entertained friend away.

"Is that a promise?" he called out after her, and Hermione could hear the wide grin in his voice. She couldn't help the small smile on her face as she looked over her shoulder, her hair bouncing around her as she did.

"I guess you'll just have to wait and see!" she called back with a light laugh, turning back around even as his grin grew even wider.

It didn't take long for Sue to pounce.

"So you and Potter, huh?" a small smirk on her face, which grew even wider at Hermione's obvious embarrassment.

"There's nothing there," she insisted instead. "We're just friends; I highly doubt he sees me that way."

"Oh, honey," Sue replied in mock sympathy, and Hermione bristled at her tone. "I don't know if you're being naive, or deliberately obtuse, but that boy wants to fuck your brains out."

Hermione choked on air.

It took her a few seconds to regain control, but she was still flushing a deep red.

"You can't just say things like that!" Hermione replied, scandalised. Luckily, the path they were walking on was pretty much deserted.

Sue's responding laughter just made her blush even more.

* * *

Hermione stamped her feet on the mat inside the changing rooms, shaking her hair out to lose the snow that had made it its home. She knew it was probably inappropriate, but Weasley had given her the all clear after she had dithered and deliberated outside for twenty five minutes. 'You'll catch your death,' he had said with a shake of his head, rolling his eyes. 'Just go in, everyone has left already.'

So that's what Hermione had done.

Standing in the male changing room with her hair fluffing up around her triggered her doubts again.

_It's bloody_ weird _, Granger_ , she admonished herself, shaking her head. _You're not even that close to the boy._

Just as she was ready to abandon all the courage that she had built up, the boy in question turned a corner, drying his hair with a towel.

And he was half naked.

Hermione must have made a noise, because he immediately stilled and looked up, his eyes catching hers.

She couldn't help her eyes straying down, down to where she could see drops of water chasing down his rather _toned_ abs, going all the way to where a larger towel hung low on his hips-

"You had your fill yet, love?" His smug voice broke her reverie, and she immediately realised with a sense of mortification that she had been caught _checking him out_. She squealed in response, immediately spinning on her heel, lowering her head even as she raised a hand to protect his modesty.

Or what was left of it anyway.

"I'm... I'm sorry, I didn't mean to make you feel uncomfortable," Hermione explained with a tense voice. "I just wanted to come by and congratulate you on winning the game."

She heard some rustling behind her but she resolutely kept her back to him. A light touch on her shoulder after a few minutes made her jump about a foot into the air, and the noise she let out was just _embarrassing._

Potter was laughing.

_Fuck._

Hermione turned around to see him almost doubled over, his laugh loud and full. She pursed her lips, narrowing her eyes as she glared at him.

"I'm- I'm sorry," he huffed out, still bloody laughing, "but you were so _surprised-_ " He was overcome with fresh laughter, grasping at his now clothed waist.

"If you're going to be a _dick_ about this-" she hissed, and then thought _fuck this_ , span back around to _storm out-_

A strong grip on her upper arm prevented her.

"I'm sorry," Potter said, a lot more sincerely this time, pulling her back. Hermione turned around to meet his earnest eyes, and _honestly_ , how is she meant to resist _that_?

She inhaled deeply.

"I accept your apology, Potter," she said, unable to keep the small smile off her face.

Her breath caught in her throat as he sent her a wide grin.

"Come now, you've seen me without a shirt," he replied, an impish grin on his face. "Isn't it time you call me Harry?"

"Only if you call me Hermione," she replied with a shy smile. Then she groaned. "I really am sorry for that, by the way." She closed her eyes in embarrassment as she felt her face flushing. Honestly, she had pretty much _accosted_ the poor boy.

A soft touch on her chin shocked her eyes open.

"I didn't mind," Potter- _Harry_ replied easily, and _honestly,_ what the _fuck_ was that supposed to mean? "Come on, I'll walk you to your Common Room. Let me just grab my stuff."

Hermione watched for a few minutes as he stuffed his Quidditch accessories into his bag, before pulling his heavy winter cloak over him. They left the tent together, and oh, it was already dark. She was regretting her decision to only bring her day cloak, and not her winter cloak to the changing rooms as the night chill penetrated her skin.

"Are you cold?" Harry asked her as they walked side by side in companionate silence. Her lack of reply as she wrapped her arms around her seemed to answer him. "Right, wait, gimme a minute-"

They stopped in the pathway, basking in the glow from the vast castle. She tried stamping her feet on the ground a few times to warm herself up, but it barely helped. She watched as Harry took his cloak off, then his jumper-

"Wait, wait," Hermione protested, raising her hands up. But he ignored her and just handed his jumper to her wordlessly. They held each other's gaze for a few moments, before Hermione reached forward to grab the maroon clothing. "Thank you," she said softly, keeping her eyes on his. She took off her cloak, tugging his over her own, and oh, it was so _soft_ and _warm-_

"No worries!" Harry replied with the same ease as everything else. They both tugged their cloaks back on. "Couldn't have you dying of pneumonia two days before the hols now, could we?" They resumed their slow journey to the castle.

"What are your plans for the holidays?" she asked, looking up at him through her lashes. The jumper did warm her up somewhat, but it was still a chilly night. Without a word, Harry put an arm around her shoulder, and _damn it_ , did he have to be so chivalrous?

"Going back to Potter manor, I guess. I might spend a few nights at the Burrow - that's the Weasley place - or maybe Neville's place, but nothing is set. What about you?" Harry was looking at her with those intense eyes of his. There weren't many people who made Hermione feel nervous, or small, but Harry, with his sincerity and _intensity_ , did exactly that.

"I'm going back home too," Hermione replied, breaking their shared gaze. She stared forward. "My parents wanted to go to France, to see my grandparents, but I didn't want to travel this year."

"And where is home?"

"North London," Hermione replied easily. "Barnet. They own a dentistry practise."

"Fascinating," Harry replied, and when she went to look at him, she realised that he was being genuine. "I've been to the dentist a couple of times." At her shocked look, he let out a small laugh. "My mum wanted me to know my roots, I guess. I spent quite a lot of time in the muggle world actually. Went to a primary school and everything."

The rest of the walk went by in a flash.

"Here we are," Hermione said as she led him to the entrance of the Common Room. She turned to look at Harry as she took off her cloak, who was looking at the knocker curiously. "Thank you for walking me, Harry. I really appreciate it, especially considering how tired you must be."

"Ah, it was no bother, really," he brushed off, turning back to look at her. "Thank you for waiting for me after the game, by the way. That was really sweet of you."

"No problem," she replied; was it her or was her face getting warmer?

There was an awkward silence for a minute or two before-

"Well, I should get going-"

"I'm going to head inside-"

They both paused, then laughed.

"I'll see you around," he said finally, and she watched him as he turned the corner with a jaunty wave.

It wasn't until Hermione was confronted by Sue and Lisa in their dorm room did she realise that she was still wearing Harry's sweater.

Which had his name emblazoned in bold, black letters on the back.

_Fuck_ , she thought as she looked at the gleaming eyes of her friends.

* * *

_Oi, Granger_

_Piss off_

_No, listen- what do you get when you cross breed an acromantula and a penguin?_

_Granger?_

_Fine, I'll bite. What do you get?_

_A spider in a penguin suit :D_

_I refuse to even entertain that… that…_ whatever _that was._

_Your smile says otherwise :D_

…

_I cannot_ believe _she took_ ten _points off!_

_I can- Minnie has sharp claws, hasn't she?_

_Don't let her catch you calling her that. And pay attention to Slughorn!_

_Okay, okayyyy_

… _What happened to calling me Hermione?_

_Would you rather me call you love?_

_You're incorrigible._

* * *

Hermione covered her mouth as she tried to stifle her laugh at Harry's scarily accurate impression of Snape. It did little to hide her unattractive snorts, but she honestly, truly didn't care.

"Ten points to Malfoy, for managing to fit his ginormous head into his robes this morning-" Harry drawled out, hunching his shoulders up as he sneered menacingly, and Hermione was off again, laughing.

She didn't miss the wild grin he gave her, and felt herself blush as she nibbled her lower lip. She also didn't miss the way his eyes dropped to watch.

* * *

Hermione seemed to float into the library after Advanced Ancient Runes, distracted as she was.

_Maybe I can incorporate Sanskrit with Elder Futhark…?_

She set that thought aside as she turned the corner, a small grin ready to greet Harry-

She halted to a stop.

Oh.

There was Harry, his back to her as he seemed to be leaning back casually. And Cho Chang was leaning forward, her long dark hair falling forward as she gave Harry a warm, inviting smile.

_Fuck._

Hermione spun on her heel and all but ran out of the library.

She was so _stupid._

_So bloody stupid._

Of course.

Of fucking course.

Hallways blurred as her eyes filled up, and _fuck_ , why the _fuck_ did she have to be a crier? At the slightest fucking impetus the waterworks came out.

It was _infuriating,_ it was _demeaning_ , and it was fucking _annoying_.

She made it to her bed uninterrupted. With quick, practised motions, she spelled her curtains shut and warded them to cage her in, to keep others out. She leaned against her headboard, staring at the soft falls of the velvet.

Why did she think otherwise? Of course Harry fucking Potter wasn't interested in _her_. And it didn't matter what she had said to Sue and Lisa before the holidays, because a part of her, a shockingly large part of her, had _hoped_. She had let herself wonder and _believe_ that maybe, just maybe, he _wanted_ her.

And Hermione wasn't stupid or blind, she knew she wasn't the most unfortunate looking person in the world.

But she also wasn't the _prettiest_.

She just… was.

Plain Hermione.

And she held no negative feelings towards Cho. Not in this aspect anyway. She still didn't like the older girl's snobbery, or how she had stood by and let Marietta and her little gang of _cows_ bully the younger years. But she was also pretty, single, smart, fit and a Quidditch player and fan. And his crush on her last year was an open secret.

_Fuck._

Hermione was used to people attempting to get close to her for her grades, her brain, her notes even. But this was the first time someone had used her to get close to someone else.

And it _hurt._

Hermione closed her eyes and let the tears fall.

* * *

Harry was in the doghouse, and he had no idea why.

It started off small.

He had been sitting in the library, at what was unofficially _their_ table, waiting for her even though they hadn't really made actual plans to meet. He had just shooed Cho away (she seemed rather keen on practising Quidditch with him but he shut her down quickly) when he decided that he might as well get started on his Potions homework while he waited. And waited.

It wasn't until dinner time that he realised she wasn't coming, and yeah, it hurt, but he shrugged it off because they hadn't really made plans, right? He had just assumed. So he went to dinner with his customary cheeky grin and bounce in his step.

She wasn't at dinner either.

"What are you looking at?" Neville asked him, craning around Ron's tall frame to match Harry's gaze. "Are you looking for Hermione?"

Harry shrugged in response and went back to his barely touched pork chops and potatoes.

Ron rolled his eyes.

"Honestly Harry, either ask her to Hogsmeade, or stop mooning after her," he declared, waving his speared potato about. "It's not healthy to pine after a bird like this."

"I'm not _mooning_ ," Harry muttered in response, attacking a green bean with renewed fervour.

Neville's "Yeah, you are," accompanied with Ron's "Hmm, sure," made him roll his eyes at them.

"Piss off, the both of you," he said with narrowed eyes, pointing the little green vegetable at both of his supposed _friends_. "I'm just concerned, is all. She didn't meet me earlier, and she's missing from dinner too."

"Probably caught up in a research project somewhere," Ron dismissed. "But anyway, did you guys see the notice board-"

Harry let the conversation go, ruminating quietly.

_Ron's probably right,_ he thought, before chiming his own thoughts on exactly how _low_ Ron's chances were of scoring a date with Daphne Greengrass.

And then it happened again.

She didn't meet with him after dinner either.

He only waited half an hour - okay, he waited fifty minutes - before leaving for the Common Room.

When he did eventually see her the next morning, he quickly jogged across the Entrance Hall to catch up with her slight form.

"Hermione!" he called a few feet away from her, slowing to a stop. Her two friends, Li and Turpin, shot him dirty looks before looking at Hermione in askance.

Harry was bewildered.

_What?_

"Morning, Harry," she replied eventually, after what felt like an age, as she turned to look at him after she nodded her friends on. He narrowed his eyes at her haggard appearance, from her bruised eyes to the red rim around her nose.

"Are you okay?" he asked her, stepping forward with a concerned look. His frown deepened when she took a step back with him.

"Of course, why do you ask?" she replied in a neutral tone, and okay, Hermione Granger was many things, but apathetic wasn't one of them. She was one of the most spirited girls he knew, for Merlin's sake.

"You seem… distracted," he responded. At her apathetic look, he continued. "I didn't see you in the library last night-" Harry noted a light wince at that, "- or dinner, and I was worried."

"No need, I'm perfectly fine. I won't take anymore of your time. Good day." And with that cold, semi-scripted sentence, she turned and left him gaping after her.

_What?_

He made to follow her into the Great Hall, to the Ravenclaw table if he had to, and the twin withering glares from her two companions did slow him down. But they didn't stop him.

"Did I do something wrong?" he asked bluntly, and okay, his Uncle Remus would roll his eyes at his lack of tact or finesse, but _whatever_. He stood behind Li, looking over her dark head to catch Hermione's _very_ expressive eyes. She looked like a deer in headlights.

"No! No, you didn't," she denied quickly. Too quickly. She was a really bad liar. "Honestly, don't worry about it. Besides, OWLs are only months away, we're both going to be really busy, and I wouldn't want to _impose_ -"

"Hermione," he cut her off, frowning. "What is this?"

_And why does it feel like a break up?_

"Nothing! Sue, did you do Professor Evans' essay yet?" And okay, wow, she really didn't want to see him right now. His frown deepened, but he left the Ravenclaws to their discussion as he moved back towards the doors, to then go back down to where Neville was already sat with Dean.

"What was that about?" Neville asked as he sat down, nodding to the blue and bronze table.

"I honestly don't know," he replied back, bewildered, "I think I've done something to hurt Hermione, but I have no idea what?"

Dean and Neville's matching winces didn't help his foul mood.

"I'm sure you guys will figure it out," Dean said in a reassuring voice.

"Maybe ask Lavender, or Parvati," Neville suggested.

Now it was Harry's turn to wince.

"Ah yeah, maybe not," he continued. If Harry asked either of the girls, it was guaranteed to be spread throughout Hogwarts by lunchtime. "What about Fay? Or Ginny?"

"Good shout; I'll ask them at lunch," he nodded resolutely, trying not to let his eyes naturally wander to the pretty, petite witch.

Keeping that up throughout the day was a test of will and patience.

And he was losing. Terribly.

For what felt like the tenth time that morning, Neville kicked his ankle to jolt him out of his reverie.

Harry eventually cornered Ginny in the Common Room before dinner, grabbing her by the elbow and gently steering her to a quieter corner.

"Hello to you too, Harry," she responded sarcastically. "Can you hurry up? Care was insanely difficult today, and I am _starving_."

"You understand girls, right?" Harry stated, looking at the tall freckled girl.

Ginny was unimpressed.

"Seeing as I am a girl, _yes_."

"Okay, so can you explain to me why Hermione is mad?" And with that, Harry told her about the library, dinner, and the subsequent breakfast disaster.

"Hm, I'm not sure actually," she pondered, leaning back on an armchair's armrests. "And you said that the last time you saw her, everything was fine?"

"Yeah! I had Care after Transfiguration, and she had Advanced Ancient Runes, but it couldn't have been more than an hour, an hour and a half tops, between the end of our last class and the library!" He ran an agitated hand through his hair.

"What was it you were doing in the library again?"

"I don't know, setting up my parchments I guess?" he answered, scrunching his nose up in thought. "Cho came to chat, but that was it." At Ginny's scathing look, he frowned. "What? What's wrong?"

"Merlin have _mercy-"_ she muttered, shaking her head. "Harry, you complete _idiot_. How could you leave out that part?"

Harry just kept looking at her blankly.

"You're almost as bad as _Ron_ ," she accused with a scoff. Ignoring his protests, she bulldozed through. "Harry, you were sitting in the library, having a "chat" with a girl that you _know_ has some history with Hermione, and that you used to have a crush on! How do you _think_ she felt when she saw that?" she demanded, brown eyes blazing.

Harry blinked at her.

"Well, when you put it like _that_ -"

Ginny rolled her eyes so hard he was scared that it would roll right out of her head.

"But that was ages ago? Everyone knows that I don't have a crush on her anymore?"

"Not the point!" she snapped back. "What did she want, anyway?"

"She wanted to go flying some time- I told her no! Quite emphatically!" he hurried to explain as Ginny's expression got darker.

"Honestly Harry, just go explain to her that you're _not_ interested in Cho, and that you'd much rather take Hermione out on a date to Hogsmeade next weekend," she said firmly. "Now can we go have dinner please?"

Harry nodded his consent and they moved towards the portrait entrance together.

"But I don't want to take her out on a date," Harry explained as they crawled through. At her unimpressed eyebrow raise, he felt himself blush. "Honestly! I just like hanging out with her! And she's super smart and funny, so it's fun debating stuff with her!"

"I am way too hungry to be dealing with your bullshit right now Harry," Ginny replied, practically running down the staircase. "Sort your shit out and ask her out already!"

"I guess she's also really good at duelling, and she takes no shit from anyone, so that's really cool too," Harry continued after her, matching her strides easily. "Plus she smacked Malfoy that one time!"

"Yes, yes, we all know she's incredible," Ginny dismissed, and Harry floundered, his face getting progressively redder. "But this is all bloody useless if _she_ doesn't know it."

They finally made it to the Entrance Hall, ten minutes after dinner had started. Ginny turned to look at him before they entered the Great Hall.

"Listen," she began, all teasing gone from her face. "Talk to her. Maybe not at dinner, too public, but after it or something. Just tell her that you're not interested in Cho, and that _she_ came to speak to _you_."

He nodded back, committing it to memory.

"But why do I feel _guilty_ about this? And I don't understand why you guys keep insisting I ask her out on a date!" he let out in frustration, running his hand through his hair for the umpteenth time. He got even more frustrated at the _pity_ on Ginny's face. "What?" he demanded.

"You're in love with her, idiot," she said simply with a shrug.

"I…" Harry trailed off, his mind going a mile a minute.

Huh.

That… made some sense.

It explained a lot actually. Why he always felt his stomach tie itself into knots whenever he was near her. Why her laugh stayed with him even after she had left. Why the sight of her curls tumbling down her back constricted his heart. Why his eyes sought her out in every room, why his breath seemed to catch whenever they made eye contact. Why her smile felt like _peace_ to him.

"I'm in love with Hermione," he muttered, eyes wide. Ginny was still standing in the same place; apparently only a second had passed while his whole world tilted on its axis.

"Now you're getting it! Now, let's go eat!"

With that, Ginny dragged him into the Hall, deposited him to Ron and Neville, before finding her own seat with her friends.

Huh.

* * *

Harry didn't let Hermione run away for a second day in a row. With reflexes honed from Quidditch, he jumped out of his seat the second he saw Hermione and her two friends leave theirs. He hurried out as quickly and discreetly as possible, hiding behind a large group of second years even as his eyes followed the three Ravenclaws. Once they reached the main staircase, Harry kept following them discreetly, keeping his distance and peering around corners.

He wished he hadn't left the Map in his trunk upstairs.

Once he determined that they were indeed going to their Common Room and not the library, he quickly changed his course.

A few secret hallways, a close encounter with the Bloody Baron, and no less than _three_ tapestries later, Harry was leaning against the wall next to the entrance of the Ravenclaw's den.

He had about three minutes to straighten his appearance and pick a position when Hermione turned the corner of the Hallway.

She trailed off from her conversation as she noticed him standing there, her face impassive.

He hated it.

"Hey Hermione, could we talk?" he asked, tone hopeful.

"I… sure, okay," she nodded in agreement. She urged her friends to go without her. "It's fine, I'll be fine," she reassured them.

Harry nodded towards the staircase. "Wanna go somewhere more private?"

She nodded again, and Harry led them to an empty classroom two corridors away. They walked in and he closed the door behind him resolutely.

* * *

Hermione tried her best not to fidget as she leaned against a spare desk. She failed miserably, and ended up tapping her fingers against her crossed arms as she watched Harry close the door behind him.

"You wanted to talk?" she asked, her voice as apathetic as she could make it.

"Er, yes, I did- I mean, I do," he floundered a bit, his hand coming up to flatten his hair.

_He's nervous,_ Hermione thought. Well, she'd be nervous in his shoes too. Rejecting someone was never easy, especially if you wanted to let them down gently.

"Harry, it's okay, I know," she cut him off. His head snapped up to meet her eyes. "I know," she repeated, "and it's okay."

"It is?" he asked hopefully, and _fuck_ , was she that off-putting? At her sharp nod, he seemed to relax, sighing deeply in relief. "Okay, I'm glad! I was so worried about how I was going to tell you, if I'm being honest… But now it's out in the open!" He seemed to look at her excitedly, unaware that with each proceeding word, he was driving a knife into her heart.

"Yes, I guess it is," she replied coldly, pressing her lips together firmly to offset the familiar burning in her eyes. He seemed to freeze.

"You… you're not happy?" he asked, unsure. He was looking at her with those _green_ eyes, his mouth puckered into a sad pout as his eyebrows furrowed.

_I didn't realise you could be so cruel._

"No, no I am," she assured him as best as she could, which wasn't very well if you went off his deeper frown. "Truly, I'm glad things are working out between you and Cho-"

"Cho?" Harry replied incredulously, mouth falling open. "No, Hermione-"

"And I understand why you did it, I guess," she said over him, voice louder as she bulldozed through because if she stopped now, if she _stopped_ \- "I understand that it was easier to get to her through me, and I guess I just needed time to _adjust_ -"

She hadn't realised, but he had been moving across the classroom until he was standing right in front of her, his tall frame leaning over her.

"Hermione," he cut her off gently. "Do you think that I used you to get closer to Cho?"

Hermione closed her mouth with a click.

She opened it again.

"I saw you guys in the library, and thought it best not to interrupt," she said weakly, crumbling under his forceful gaze. She looked away to the side.

"Why do you think that?" he asked in the same gentle tone, and honestly this was _worse_ than his usual passionate self.

"I mean, you did have a thing for her, so I assumed that all your hard work of getting to know me had finally paid off," she replied, shrugging back at him. She looked up to meet his eyes. "Besides, she seemed pretty cozy with you the other day," she said icily, unable to keep her emotions out of her voice.

"She approached _me,_ " he explained. "She wanted to go flying sometime, quite insistent too, but I rejected her." Her heart fell through her stomach. "And do you know why? Because I'm _not_ interested in Cho Chang, I haven't been interested since last summer, really."

Hermione blinked up at him.

"Do you really think so poorly of me?" he asked in the most kicked-puppy voice that she had ever heard. When she didn't reply, he nodded. "I see. Well, I guess I'll see you around." And with that, he turned to walk away, and _fuck-_

"Wait," she called out before she knew what she was doing. He stopped, turning to meet her eyes. "I didn't mean to hurt you, it's just that from _my_ perspective, it didn't make sense that you were hanging out with me. I don't know if you've noticed or not, but I'm not exactly winning any popularity contests here."

"But… I _like_ hanging out with you? Why would I need another reason?" Harry replied with the most adorable, confused frown on his face.

"I'm getting there, give me a minute," she replied with an eye roll. She then took in a deep breath; he seemed to be willing to hear her out at least. "I want you to understand. I didn't have any friends for the first 11 years of my life, and I thought, new school, new opportunities for me, you know? To start fresh. It didn't work out that way, of course," she smiled bitterly. It still stung. "I only really became friends with Sue and Lisa in third year after we partnered up together for Ancient Runes, for goodness' sake."

"I didn't know, Hermione, I'm sorry," he said sincerely, taking a step closer. "Why didn't you say before?"

"Because it's embarrassing," Hermione replied, mouth tight. "It's _humiliating_ to admit that my own Housemates, the House _known_ for know-it-all swots, thought that I was too much of a know-it-all for _them_. What hope did I have for the rest of the school? And then when you started to be nice to me, I told myself not to get too close, not to get my hopes up, but… I couldn't _not_." She closed her eyes, because this was insanely embarrassing to admit, and it would be easier if she pretended that he wasn't there. "You are the most intense, the most unbelievable person I've ever met, and you came into my life like a hurricane, upending everything I thought I knew about friends, and about… And it was scary how _easy_ it was to adjust to you being in my life! It was like you were a missing piece that just _fit-_ Regardless, I got carried away. And then I saw Cho, and I guess… I guess it just reminded me of how expendable I am. Replaceable I guess. And it was just easier to cut you off and distance myself than to talk to you about it."

By the end of her absolute word vomit, she was leaning her head back to prevent the tears that wanted to spill. Her eyes were still screwed shut, and her hands were clenched tightly at the edge of the table.

A light touch at her right hand startled her enough to open her eyes.

And _fuck_.

He was still there, as sturdy as a rock, but with a gentleness to him that made her heart _constrict_.

"Hermione," he whispered. "I am in love with you, you silly girl."

Her mouth fell open.

"I have been for a while, I think," he continued, stepping closer into her personal space. She got a large whiff of that cologne he likes to use, and something distinctly _Harry_. "You're brilliant. Insanely clever, caring, a little ruthless, but overall _brilliant._ Not to mention how gorgeous you are." He stopped to take a deep breath as if to build up to something. "I don't think I stood a chance, if I'm being honest with you. Ever since you beat me in Defence."

"But that was months ago!" Hermione exclaimed, her eyes wide with shock.

"Yes," Harry confirmed with a grin. "And every day you made me fall in love with you more and more. It's the small things," he explained gently, placing his other hand on her left. He smoothed out her tight fist, his fingers calloused. "The way you light up when you talk about runes and Elder Futhark; the way your magic settles around you when you're curled up with a good book in the Library. Your considerate actions that I don't even think you realise doing, like waiting for me after dinner, or fixing my tie before class."

Hermione was stunned.

_What the f-_

"I… Oh, Harry!" With that exclamation, she threw herself into his arms, winding hers around his neck. She pressed herself against, feeling his solid arms pull her closer by her waist. She buried her nose into his neck, letting herself breathe him in. "I'm so stupid sometimes, I'm sorry for thinking the worst of you, I understand if you don't want to hang out anymore-"

"Hermione, relax," he interrupted her babbling. "I understand why you reacted the way that you did, it's okay." He pulled back enough to look down and smirk at her. "Besides, it's going to take more than that to get rid of me."

She hit him on the chest. "Prat!"

Suddenly, she was aware of how close they were. With her head tilted up and a hand on his chest, it was a close, _intimate_ embrace. She searched his insanely green eyes, looking for a sign or reluctance, or rejection. But all she saw was acceptance, warmth, and maybe something close to love? And then she did something she hadn't done in a long, long time.

"Fuck it," she murmured, before leaning in and pressing her lips against his before she could chicken out.

Oh, and they were _divine._

Soft, malleable, smooth. She had kissed guys before ( _thank you, Anthony Goldstein)_ but this was _nothing_ compared to them. She gave a little sigh as she melted into him, her mouth moving against his softly. One hand gripped his shirt, the other snaked up to grab the back of his head. She curled her fingers into his soft hair, tugging softly as he squeezed her waist with his _amazing_ hands.

His little moan reverberated through her, settling something warm and heavy in her lower abdomen. _Fuck, of course he's a good kisser, I can't believe-_

Her thought process short-circuited a second later when he pressed his tongue against the seam of her lips. She opened her mouth and allowed him entrance, her own tongue pressing against his languidly as they deepened the kiss.

They broke apart after a few minutes, breathing heavily as Harry pressed his forehead against hers.

"Wow," he huffed out with a short laugh. "That was… incredible."

She let out her own chuckle. "Yes, well, we will have to practise quite a few times to make sure it's perfect, no?" she asked teasingly, a small smile curling at the corner of her mouth.

He threw his head back and laughed, and Hermione couldn't look away from the tall column of his neck. When he looked back down at her, her breath caught in her throat. His eyes seemed to light up from within, and with his bruised lips and messy hair, he looked absolutely _delectable_.

"Of course Miss Granger," he said with a mocking nod of his head. "Nothing but the best performance, right?"

"Of course," she replied with a faux-snooty voice, tilting her head up.

His responding grin prompted her own one, and she bit her lip to try and contain it. His eyes immediately dropped to watch, his grin fading into an almost hungry look.

_Fuck._

Hermione moved back until her butt was pressed against the desk, before hopping on to it. She pulled Harry closer to her with his tie, a mischievous smile crossing her face as his eyes widened in shock. She widened her legs enough for him to comfortably stand between them. She crossed her legs behind his waist as she pulled him down to meet her eyes. Her heart was pounding so hard she was sure he could hear it, blood rushing through her ears as she leaned forward again.

"Better get started straight away, yes?" she murmured, eyes dropping to his _completely_ kissable lips.

"I wouldn't dare argue with you, love," he murmured back. He leaned down and finally, _finally_ pressed his lips against hers.

If their first kiss had been sweet and romantic, their second kiss was _electric_.

She was almost embarrassed at the moan she let out when he nibbled on her lip. Almost.

She pressed her tongue against his lips first this time, adamant on exploring. The heavy feeling in her abdomen got tighter as his hands caressed her waist and back, leaving a sharp tingling sensation on her skin. She felt her magic pulsing against his, pressing against each other as they entwined around one another. His magic felt _strong,_ almost suffocating in its power _,_ like wildfire. Her magic, in contrast, was weaker but more intense with sparks and flares, like a stormy cloud.

It was an intoxicating mix.

Her hands were quick to undo his tie, letting it hang around his neck as she unbuttoned his shirt with quick fingers. The first touch of her hands against his chest brought a sharp gasp out of him, even as he untucked her shirt from her skirt with nimble fingers. He grasped her waist without the shirt between them, never letting his hands wander higher than her abdomen even as her hands tried to find purchase against his beautifully muscled chest.

_Bang!_

The loud noise jolted them both out of their shared embrace, their heads shooting up to look at Sue's embarrassed face at the door.

"I'm sorry, I just wanted to make sure you didn't harm Potter enough to get expelled," she said awkwardly, shuffling from one foot to the other. Then she grinned widely, as if realising what she had walked in on. "And now Longbottom and Lisa both owe me ten sickles!" she said with a manic grin. "Enjoy, you two lovebirds! And don't forget to use a condom!" With one final wink, she walked out of the classroom, whistling a jaunty tune.

Hermione sat there shell-shocked, her eyes wide. She looked up to see Harry in a similar state of shock, and burst out laughing.

That seemed to startle him out of his stunned stupor, and soon, they were both cackling loudly in the empty classroom.

"Did you know that our friends were betting on us?" Hermione finally asked, hiccupping to a stop.

"No, but I'm also not surprised," he replied back, his laugh also subsiding away. "Come on, let me drop you back to your Common Room."

They tidied themselves up quickly, shooting each other quick and furtive looks. She stole a short kiss from him as she tidied his tie up, smiling sweetly up at him.

"Come on, princess, I don't want to find out just how adept your friends are at curses," he said with an easy grin, tugging on her hand.

Hermione beamed up at him and let him pull her along.

* * *

_En fin._

**Author's Note:**

> If you've made it this far, thanks for reading! This is the first time I've ever uploaded a fanfic of mine, and it's quite terrifying tbh. It's also the first time I've actually finished writing a fanfic lmao, but I digress. I hope you guys enjoyed this one-shot! I would really appreciate any comments/constructive criticism, as I'd love to grow as a writer and hopefully improve!
> 
> This is also cross-posted on fanfic . net (under the same name)
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters or the setting, I just used some creative licensing for the story, pls don't sue me <3


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